Carnival
by lovely aldebaran
Summary: Sora moves to the country to get away from life, but what he finds is mystery and tragedy. AxelxRoxas


Disclaimer: I am retelling this story, _Mr. Fredward's Duck_, with a few changes. The story is in no way mine; I give full credit to the author, Keiko Ushijima. Also, the characters Axel and Roxas aren't mine.

Note: told from Sora's pov. When Axel refers to the someone Sora reminds him of, he is referring to Roxas.

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I wanted a new life. That was all the reason I had for moving away from the city, away from everyone and everything I knew. I'm a writer. And as I writer, I need inspiration. It was becoming more and more difficult to get my stories published, and so I decided I needed inspiration. Back then, it meant that I needed a total change, giving up everything except my writing. Looking back, I realize that I wasn't giving up anything at all when I moved there, not really. Because, what are tall steel buildings, traffic, computers, coffee? None of it is important. So I wasn't giving up anything.

When I first moved to the grand old house which I had bought on impulse—the architecture was amazing, the orchard healthy, the lake mystifying—I thought that was what I needed to get my life back on track. I thought I had delved too deeply in city life and become lost in it. I might have been lost, but it wasn't for the reasons I suspected. The first two weeks living in that house were strange and lonely. I couldn't get phone lines or an internet connection set up for a while, effectively cutting me off from humankind. I must not have seen the townspeople on the street; they were people, but not what I was used to seeing, so my idle eyes drifted over them. After those few weeks, I had come to think of living there as a sort of holiday. Not that we writers actually have holidays, but I was convinced that this was not the life for me, and I would put my life on hold until I could get out of the dump. Having nothing to do all day long was tedious. Stories drifted in and out of my head as I gazed out the window of the parlor out onto the lake. That was all I wanted to do: daydream. My mother told me, when I called her often enough to become bothersome, that I really seemed more like an old man than a writer. After that stinging remark I resolved to get out of the house more often and maybe actually do some work.

Sitting on an old stone bench under a weeping willow, I thought that mother was right, and that getting out of the house didn't seem to be doing much good either. Then, the thought of going to meet some of the local people did cross my mind. I didn't go though. I was sure they would have thought me odd, not because I was a foreigner, but because I haven't ever fit in to society well. I don't fit in with other people, and I was afraid of them. The thought of my mother and other people brought to mind the old Mother Goose rhyme.

My mother said that I never should  
Play with the gypsies in the wood.  
The wood was dark and the grass was green;  
Then came Sally with her tambourine.

I went to the sea, no ship to get across,  
I paid five shillings for a blind white horse.  
I on his back, I was off in a crack;  
Sally tell my mother I'll never come back.

At that moment, I heard what I thought was a tambourine in the woods. The sound piqued my curiosity and overshadowed the flash of fear that rose within me. I pushed through undergrowth and low hanging branches, coming to a small circular meadow. In the centre was a boy, dancing. His red hair shone and glittered in the sunlight as she moved to and fro, limbs graceful. The meadow itself seemed to create a stage for him; tall trees darkened the ground, but the clearing was full of light. He became aware of my eyes on his back and turned, hand outstretched and eyes blazing. A boy that emanates danger.

"Would you like to dance?"

He looked eighteen or maybe nineteen, and took my hand, leading me in a trance to the centre of the meadow where he had stood before. I danced with him, a slow waltz. I could feel the music swirling around us, taking us back to a time long passed. All too soon the music ended, and I was left out of breath. He stepped back and looked at me full in the face.

"I know… you must live in that old house on the other side of the lake." I didn't answer him. "What's your name?" I answered truthfully, transfixed by his beauty. He looked like a gypsy; all sliver bells and bracelets. He smiled warmly at me. "My name is Axel. I'm following the carnival that passed through here, but I stayed behind." We ended up talking and wandering through the woods. By the time the first stars glimmered in the sky, we were back where we started. The meadow was lit by moonlight now, and the shadows cast were eerie.

"I'll be here again tomorrow." Axel looked at me hopefully. I knew he wanted to see me again, but all I could tell him was goodbye.

The next day, I found myself hurrying to the meadow despite my better judgment. It wasn't good to see strange boys in the middle of nowhere. But I wanted to hear the chime of her bells once more. Today, the sky was cloudy, making the meadow dull; it looked like a shot out of an old film, the colors not quite true. It looked as if it were going to rain. Axel emerged out of the brush, looking the same as the sky. He wasn't at all like she was the other day, he looked sadder, somehow. His expression changed like the colors floating on a puddle of oil. I thought he might have been bothered about something, like I was. But never mind, I didn't question him.

Finally his expression settled on something close to happiness, and he bounded over the meadow into my arms. I had brought a picnic basket for us to share, so I spread a blanket down on the ground and set out the food. Birds watched us from overhead, twittering and eyeing the food, watching for crumbs and discarded crusts.

"You don't eat much." I grunted in reply and lit a cigar. "Let me try one." I looked over at Axel with mild surprise, wondering why in the world he would want to have a smoke. "If only smoke was blue or purple. It would rise to heaven like velvet light." The way he talked was fascinating; or maybe it wasn't the way he talked, rather the obscure subjects he brought up. I'll always remember this, along with his reaction when I moved to toss the cigar into the lake.

"No, don't! Don't throw it into the lake…" He startled me. "A few people have drowned in this lake. The weeds grow thick, and won't release the bodies from the water. I used to live here, so I know…" I asked if he had been born here. He clamored into a small rowboat and motioned for me to follow before answering. I started rowing out to the middle of the lake. It was open on the water, somehow, I felt vulnerable without the trees to cover me. "I spent my childhood in an orphanage near your mansion. When I was younger, a friend of mine drowned here. She was a strange child who liked to be alone. We played together all the time. When she died, some people said it was an accident, but others disagreed. Can you see her?" Axel gazed down into the lake. I didn't want to look, for fear that I might actually see the girl, so I kept my eyes on Axel.

"I could never forget her face. As long as I remember her, she will always be here with the same face she had when she was alive…. Even if you die, you still live on in another's memories. Ah, maybe this story isn't very pleasant for other people…" He drifted into silence for a while, still staring into the lake, into the face of the dead girl. "There was a rumor that a monk also drowned here. He was upset because his love was unrequited. I can understand how he feels." Axel brought his attention to me again. I didn't want to pry, but curiosity overcame me, and I had to ask why. "My love is also unrequited." He laid his head down in his knees. "The man I love is similar to you. Not the way you look, but in the way you act. He was a great dancer." Pity overwhelmed me. I asked if he had told him about his feelings. Axel smiled sadly. "He wouldn't love someone from an orphanage. That's when I ran away with the carnival. They were leaving that week, so I went with them and traveled all over the world. A few years later, we were coming full circle, back to the town with the orphanage. I found my love had married a beautiful girl, and was living in your mansion. It broke my heart." I told him that he was different from the monk, that her gaze was direct; he hadn't hidden his feelings. Again, he smiled that small sad smile. "You mean, there's no harm in suffering a little for your own good." I told him I had to go home, but I wanted to see him again. "If you want…"

Suddenly I heard voices shouting from the shore of the lake. I turned to see a pair of farmers waving frantically at me.

"The lake is dangerous! What are you doing there alone?" _Alone?_ I turned again, and Axel wasn't in the boat with me. Had he dove into the lake? I jumped in after him, opening my eyes in the murky water. His flashing bells weren't there. I swam slowly to the shore of the lake, my clothes trying to carry me down. The farmers pulled me out of the water. They must have thought me a lunatic.

"He disappeared! Axel disappeared!" The farmers looked at me and then each other, as if to check that there had been no one else in the rowboat with me.

"There wasn't anyone, boy. Who are ye talkin' 'bout?" He was completely serious.

"The boy, Axel. He was with me." Both of the old men looked alarmed.

"Axel? Do you mean the monk?" I must have looked bewildered. "Axel drowned in the lake more than forty years ago. He grew up at the orphanage and left, but eventually came back to become a monk. The orphanage itself burned down not long after that. There was no Axel in the boat." A chill ran down my spine.

"But he was warm in my arms…" The farmers only shook their heads in sympathy and walked away. His voice came to me then. _"I can't, even if the whole world loved me, I can't live if he doesn't love me."_

I wonder now if Axel will always dance alone. I think he wanted to be known, wanted someone to know he was living in the world. Like the waves that come and go, will he always dance alone? While letting himself drown in his own regrets…

"Axel…"

That fall, I met a boy from the carnival.


End file.
